


Mistakes

by SophieRipley



Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: Angst, Arguing, Break Up, Heartbreak, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Mistakes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-27
Updated: 2016-11-12
Packaged: 2018-08-27 09:57:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8397157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SophieRipley/pseuds/SophieRipley
Summary: A mistake is made and Judy badly handles the aftermath.





	1. Karma

The instrument of Judy’s torture was a coffee cup, and the torturer was her flat refusal to get rid of it.  It was a simple enough cup:  a bunny-sized white mug with a picture of a carrot on it, and the words “I am Carrots” written in bold.  It was by itself a fairly innocuous looking cup, but what many didn’t realize was that it was the companion to another bigger cup with the picture of a fox and the words “I love carrots”.

Every morning, Judy woke up and saw the cup sitting there on her nightstand, mockingly.  It drove splinters of hot ice through her body each time she laid eyes on it.  In between those times there were countless reminders of times past.  She arrived at the precinct and went to her overlarge chair in the bullpen; it had always been too big, but now it stretched around her like a field of orange flames, huge in its emptiness.  After the morning briefing, Judy would go to her squad car and hop in the driver’s seat and go on patrol, and the silence of the ride was a constant deafening ring in her sensitive ears.  She could have turned on the radio, but it would have been like another betrayal.  A refusal to accept it.

Lunch was taken in silence each day and without food of any kind.  Judy would drink a bottle of water, and that would be it.  In days past, she’d eaten lunch at the vegan diner near the precinct, the one with the amazing wraps, but no longer.

She’d check in after her shift each day, park her car, clock out.  She’d slink past Clawhauser’s desk in heavy silence, and the cheetah wouldn’t speak to her.  He’d tried, at first.  He’d made an effort to maintain their friendship, but Judy never returned his greetings and eventually they stopped coming.  The only thing he sent her way these days were sad, forlorn looks.

She would take the train to her apartment in the Meadowlands District by way of Zootopia Loop.  In days past, she’d take the purple line, the Inner Loop, but no longer. 

When Judy arrived at her apartment each evening, she dressed down from her uniform, made a small microwaveable meal, and sat at her desk to eat.  She never ate much, and never sat there long.  She didn’t like sitting at her desk anymore, because upon the desk was a single picture from better times.  A picture framed in silver, a picture she would never hide but would always hide from.

And every evening when she went to bed the cup was there still, waiting for her.  Waiting to drive nails into her heart, to shred her emotions apart again.

This routine had been going on for two months, one week, and two days.  It was the morning of the third day of the second week of the third month when there was a change.  When she arrived at Precinct One, he was there.  Standing in front of Clawhauser’s desk in all his glory, uniform hugging him in all the right ways and coffee in one paw, was Officer Nicholas Wilde. 

He looked tired, but he was still beautiful.

As she saw him, Judy stopped in her tracks, just inside the building, and she couldn’t help but to hear their words.  Clawhauser asking him how the undercover case wrapped up, Nick telling him what detail he could, and then Clawhauser’s tentative question, spoken softly as if the words could rip worlds apart.

“So…what happened between you and Judy?  She hasn’t spoken to anyone but the Chief in more than two months.  Since you left, in fact.”

Oh, how Judy’s body sang to see his tail, bushy in its winter coat, droop.  How her heart savagely beat against the barbed wire holding it in place when she saw his ears flatten.  How her soul ached to run to him, and how her mind locked the rest back down into submission.

Nick shook his head and replied just as softly as the question, and the words pierced Judy like so many bullets.  It was a wonder she didn’t fall, hemorrhaging from the wounds.

“She left me, Benji,” said the fox plainly, the pain still audible in his voice.

Clawhauser’s expression of confusion was entirely justified, as was his follow-up question:  “What? Why?  What did you do?”

If Nick’s previous words were like gunfire, these were sniper fire, precision killing blows. 

“I forgave her,” said Nick simply, and then he walked to the Bullpen.

She followed after a minute, after her feet allowed her to move again, once she was sure the movement wouldn’t cause her to shatter then and there.  And when she made her way into the bullpen, there he was again, in that overlarge chair, sitting to one side so as to leave room for his companion on the other half.  The slump in his shoulders and the stillness of his tail were clues to the fact that he didn’t think Judy would approach, but he’d left her room anyway just in case.

She didn’t approach and instead found a seat in the back near Francine who had the empathy to look sadly at the bunny and the respect to not say anything. 

The briefing went quickly.  Judy was still, according to the precinct paperwork, Nick’s partner and now that he was returned from an undercover mission that required his unique talents they were expected to begin working together again.  Bogo however noticed the seating change and held them back after all the other officers had moved to their jobs.

The buffalo looked down at them from his podium for a long moment with an impossible to read expression.  Judy looked at the floor and Nick stared back up at him with what could almost have been described as defiance if not for the subdued nature of his expression.

Finally the buffalo spoke.  “I don’t know what your problem is, and I don’t care.  Fix it.  Today.”  Left unspoken was the implication that they would have an out if they could no longer work with each other, but also implied was Bogo’s order to try to make it work.  Both mammals knew why Bogo wanted them to work:  they were the best officers in the precinct, and they worked exceptionally well together.  Also, Bogo was among those who could be described as “fans” of the Judy and Nick romance and had once in a moment of weakness told Judy that he was glad they had gotten together.

Nobody spoke as Bogo turned around and walked away, and the silence continued to thicken and curdle as they made their way to their car.  Nick hopped into the passenger seat as he always had and Judy climbed into the driver’s seat as she always had, but the lively banter and friendly arguments didn’t come.  They never would again, and Judy’s eyes prickled with unshed tears at the thought.

It was three hours before Nick finally broke the silence, gazing out his window.

“The case broke three weeks ago,” he said calmly, as if nothing had ever happened.  “I ended up with a pretty moderate injury and I’ve spent the last three weeks recovering.”  Judy’s stomach soured and clenched. 

Nick took a slow breath.  “I knew you wouldn’t come to see me.  Chief told me you didn’t even know I was back.  He said you’ve been isolating yourself.  Doing your job and nothing more.  Haven’t been listening to any of the office gossip.”

They were quiet again for a few minutes.  Judy kept her eyes on the road and Nick kept his on their surroundings. 

Lunch came before the silence was broken again, and Judy drove to their diner because Nick needed to eat and that was his favorite lunch spot.  When he got out of the car to go get his food, she politely refused to join him, and by the time he returned with his typical pair of veggie wraps she’d gotten out her afternoon bottle of water.  He stared at the water and then at her for a long moment.

“Tell me that’s not your lunch.”  His eyes narrowed when she took a sip instead of answering him.  “You haven’t really been taking a bottle of water for lunch since I’ve been gone.”

She took another sip.  Then she looked out her window and nodded.  Nick’s snort of annoyance was followed by him plopping one of his wraps in her lap.  Judy looked down at it in shock.

“I’m not eating your food, Nick,” muttered Judy.

“You’ll eat it,” replied Nick with a definite tone of anger, “and tomorrow you’ll eat another one.  You’re not going to continue to starve yourself.  This is stupid, Judy.”

“Karma,” said Judy automatically.  The moment the word left her mouth she cringed.

She felt Nick’s shocked gaze bore into the side of her head.  “No.  You do not get to use that against me.”

She whipped around and glared at him.  “Why not, Nick?”  Her words were loud in the quiet vehicle.  “You told me a long time ago that Karma punishes those who do bad.  You don’t get to decide who she should punish.”

“Neither do _you_ ,” yelled Nick, jabbing a finger at her.  Then he closed his eyes and took a deep breath to calm himself.  When he opened his eyes he looked sad.  “Judy, you made a mistake.  We all do.”

She shook her head.  “No.  You don’t get to come back and tell me that.”  It was her turn to close her eyes, and as she squeezed them shut tears dripped down her face.  She could remember clearly, could picture with perfect clarity, how broken Nick had looked when she confessed to him what she’d done.  How angry, how volatile, how shattered he was.

“He was a player, Carrots,” said Nick softly, “and one of the most attractive foxes I’ve ever met.  If I was into guys I’d have slept with him too.”

It was a lie, and they both knew it.  A clear deception made to illustrate how little he blamed her, and it served only to make her break into pieces in her seat. 

Somehow, she managed to avoid sobbing.  The tears, though, only kept coming.

“Don’t call me Carrots,” whispered Judy brokenly.  The words were simple but contained the full meaning of her state of mind, that the mockery-turned-sobriquet had taken yet another transformation to shameful reminder of disgrace.

Nick sighed.  “Judy, you’re a bunny.  I knew going in that it might happen.  I chose to date you anyway.  I won’t hold it against you that your libido is so great that I can’t keep up.”

“There were options, Nick,” said Judy, clenching her paws into fists.  “There were options, and I didn’t take them.  Medication to depress my sex drive.  Counseling to help bolster my restraint.  I could have taken care of it myself more often, I could have talked to you about it more.  Instead I promised I’d be monogamous and turned around and broke that promise.”

“So take those options now,” retorted Nick hotly.  “Don’t give up.  Make up for it.”

They were silent for a minute, and when Judy spoke again she spoke very softly.

“‘I can’t look at you.  You’ve hurt me, and I need to be left alone.’” Her words echoed the ones he’d uttered more than two months ago, words spoken in pain and followed by absence.  The last words he’d spoken to her before leaving for two months.

“No, Judy.”  Nick’s reply sounded helpless.

“Yes, Nick.”

“Don’t hold that against me.  I was upset, and when I took the time to think about it, I forgave you.”

Judy reached into her pocket and pulled out a piece of well-folded and tear-stained cardstock.  She’d first seen it when it was still crisp, a single fold down the middle, sitting on her nightstand the morning after she’d broken Nick’s heart and three hours after he’d left to begin his undercover assignment.  Inside was carefully and badly drawn bunny and fox figures, and seven words:  _I forgive you, and I love you._   It had been accompanied by a single violet blossom, which had long since fell to decay.  Judy passed the note over and placed it delicately on Nick’s lap.  Then, she ate the wrap he’d given her, murmured a word of thanks, and got back to their patrol route. 

It was a very long and silent shift, and when it was over Judy went home on the Zootopia Loop leaving Nick to take the Inner Loop train like he always had before.  As they parted, Judy refused to look at Nick’s forlorn expression and felt herself breaking again.  She was a ship lost at sea, sailing steadily away from her guiding light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry.
> 
> EDIT: I'd like to state for the record that I didn't post this story to prove a moral point. There was a message to it, but I'm not trying to make a stand in any sort of ethical debate, nor am I trying to CREATE an ethical debate. I wrote this because I needed the catharsis that can come from writing. I may should have not posted it, but I did and the damage is done. Everyone errs.
> 
> Also, I do understand that Nick is somewhat out of character here. It was a calculated risk.


	2. Fury

Nick had been dating Judy for approximately a year when he was informed he was needed for an undercover assignment.  He was put on the case despite his relative inexperience on the force because he was well-acquainted with the lifestyle he’d be infiltrating, and as such had an advantage over everyone else on the force.  He had, after all, been a street fox growing up in the neighborhood Tranquility Lane.  As Bogo was drawing close to getting a major trafficking ring pushing through that neighborhood, Nick was to be sent in.

It was nearly winter.  The fox mating season had only just started when Judy picked up on Nick’s attraction to her and asked him out.  For the following two and a half months they hardly left the bedroom, but then the season ended and their physical intimacy sloped off dramatically, going from two or three times a day to once a week or so.  Because Judy never complained and never showed him signs that she was having trouble with the new frequency of love-making, he didn’t address it and didn’t worry about it.  If there was an issue, she’d tell him.

Nick had been called into Bogo’s office after the morning briefing, where he was informed of his upcoming undercover assignment.  Judy waited for him in the lobby and they walked to the car in silence.  Once they’d left the precinct parking lot, Judy asked the question he knew she would.

“So, how much trouble are you in and what’d you do?”  She smirked at him.

He smirked back.  “The opposite, actually.  I’ve been given an assignment.  In a couple days, I’ll be going undercover in Tranquility Lane.”

Judy’s smirk fell a little, and she was quiet for a moment.  “How long?”

“Bogo thinks about a month.”  He understood the look of concern in her face.  It was both concern for his safety and for their relationship.  He knew that rabbits had sex drives year-round, and he knew that those sex drives were quite strong; Nick had done his research before they started officially dating, learning that rabbits were predisposed to polyamorous relationships, treating sex as a thing to be shared.  He had in fact brought this up before agreeing to date her, citing his own discomfort with the idea, and she’d promised she’d be with him and him alone.

“You going to be okay?”  Nick glanced over to her as he asked, and he noted how tightly she was gripping the steering wheel. 

She nodded.  “I’ll be fine, Nick.  I’m worried about you.  That place is dangerous, you could be hurt.  You could be killed.”

“Carrots,” chuckled Nick, “sweetheart, I grew up there.  I know my way around the dangers.”

Her smile was tight and still full of concern and stress.  “I know.  Just…I can’t help but worry.”

Nick grew serious, and when they stopped at a stop sign he put a paw on her arm, drawing her eyes to him.  “Judy, are you going to be able to cope? Without me?” A brief glance down to her lap was enough to get her to understand what he meant, and she nodded.

“Don’t worry about me, Nick.  I told you I could handle it, and I will.” 

He could see the bravado in her eyes, could see the stress and the uncertainty.  He stared into her violet eyes for a long moment…and then nodded, looking forward.  If she was having trouble, she’d tell him.

The rest of the shift passed normally.  Nick, at the end of the day, changed into his civilian clothes before Judy finished, and he sauntered over to her locker in the locker room as she pulled on a soft blue tee shirt.

“Hey Carrots,” said Nick, leaning on the locker next to hers, “I got a message from an old buddy of mine.  Wants to go out drinking tonight, catch up a bit.  Want to come along?  I know we usually have dinner tonight, I can blow him off….”

Judy shook her head and smiled at him.  “No no, don’t blow him off.  I don’t mind meeting your friend instead, it’s not like we don’t have dinner every week.”  She grabbed her keys and wallet and closed her locker.  “Lead the way, Slick.”

He did.  They walked—as neither of them had seen the necessity yet in purchasing their own vehicle—to the bar Nick had been told to meet at, and as they went, Nick told Judy some history.

“So the guy’s name is Richard Paladin,” said Nick.  “We went to high school together, and he ended up working on a cargo ship right out of school.  We’d hang out when he came home for a long time, but eventually we just drifted apart.  Last I saw him was about six years ago, he’d been promoted.  We got so smashed that night, it was ridiculous.”

“Is that why you don’t drink much anymore?”  Judy bumped Nick with her hip, and he swished her with his tail in return.

“Actually…partly,” admitted Nick.  “It was fun waking up in bed with two hot vixens, but not knowing who they were or what bed I was in was not fun at all.  Neither was the hangover.  I was sick for two days.”

“Two vixens…sick for two days.”  Judy raised her eyebrow.  “I think Karma had something to do with that one.”

“I think you might be right, Fluff,” said Nick with an easy smile.  “Here we are.”  He directed her to the building they were approaching, an establishment called Dawn’s Palace.  As was the case with many drinking establishments, the inside was dimly lit and smoky, and Nick passed through the minor crowd of medium-sized mammals to get to the bar.  He stood next to another red fox and quite clearly picked his pocket, slipping his wallet from him.  As he did this, Judy gave him a look and hopped up on the bar stool next to him.

“Richard,” said Nick, drawing the fox’s attention, “why the hell is your driver’s license expired?”

The fox turned, processed that his wallet was in Nick’s paws, and snatched it from him.  “Dammit Nick, what’s your problem?  Ya mangy, flea-bitten street-bastard.”

“ _Hey_!” exclaimed Nick.  “I do _not_ have fleas.  I have mites.  Get it right.”  They both burst out laughing, and then hugged like family.  “Richie, I want you to meet my girlfriend.”  Nick stepped back, having been standing between them, and watched as Judy shook his paw.  He knew she’d find him attractive; he knew this because Nick was not at all attracted to males, and _he_ found Richie attractive.  The tod, younger than Nick by a year, had fur a deeper-red than Nick’s own orange, sleeker lines in his build, a more dexterous stance, and—though Nick hated to admit it—a more fluffy tail.  Richie’s deep, warm, amber eyes locked with Judy and he smiled as their paws gripped each other.

“Hi,” said Judy, smiling.  “Officer Judy Hopps, ZPD.  I’d say Nick has told me a lot about you, but….”

“But he hasn’t,” grinned Richie charmingly.  “Nicky here keeps things close to his vest, always has.  I’m Richard Paladin, please call me Rich.”

Nick cleared his throat, and Richie winked at him, letting go of Judy’s paw.

“Is that jealousy I see, Nicky?” said Richard smoothly.  “How unbecoming.”

“Nick isn’t jealous,” said Judy.  The bartender, a badger, came up to them at that moment, and she ordered drinks for her and Nick, something fruity for her and a scotch for Nick.

“She’s right,” said Nick, taking his drink and sipping it.  “I just know how you work, Richie.”

“What’s that mean?”  Judy looked between them, absorbing Nick’s stern expression and Richard’s languid one.

“Well,” started Richard, “what he’s saying is I’m a fox that likes my bed partners.”

“You’re a damned dirty whore, is what I’m saying,” said Nick lightheartedly.  “Seriously, Carrots, this guy seduced what…three quarters of the people in his graduating class?  And three of the teachers?”

“Two,” said Richard.  “Two of the teachers, I lied about Brenda Stripes.”

“My point stands.  If it has a pulse, he wants it.  And if it has an ego, he can seduce it.”

Judy scoffed.  “Oh come on, you can’t be that good.”

“Can’t I?”  Richard took a drink of his beer as Judy sipped her fruity drink, then grinned at Nick.  “Remember Greta and Helen?”

“Oh Karma help me,” laughed Nick.  “Listen to this, he actually seduced _two nuns_ , Fluff.  _Nuns_.  Convinced them to have a three-way with him.”

“They shouldn’t have been there if they didn’t want to get some,” sniffed Richard.

“It was a _charity dinner_ , Richie.”

“Yes, but I was there too so my point stands.”

“Okay guys, enough about sex please.”  Judy’s tone sounded to Nick like it was carefully amused.  Almost artificially so.  “Nick said you worked on cargo ships; is that still true?”

“Oh sure.”  Richard indicated to the bartender he wanted another beer.  “I’ve been on boats for…jeeze, more than ten years now.  I’ve got a pretty high position too, and if things go my way I might be able to buy my own ship. Go freelance.”

The drinks kept flowing and the conversation drifted from Richard’s plans for his ship to Judy and Nick’s jobs at the ZPD.  They were talking for the better part of an hour when Nick got a call.  He’d have ignored it, but it was Finnick; so Nick excused himself and answered.

“Finn, this isn’t a great time.”

“ _Yeah yeah, Rich the bitch is in town, I know.  Look, I need some help, Nick._ ”

“Is it life or death?  It better be.”

“ _It will be if I don’t get your fuckin’ help, Wilde.  My van won’t start, and I’m in a real bad neighborhood.  I need you to back me up while I fix it.  I’d call someone else, but…I don’t trust anyone else, Nicholas._ ”

Nick sighed and looked over at Judy, who was still talking to Richard.  They were getting along, which should have worried him more than it did.  “Damn it Finnick…fine, we’ll be there soon.  Text me the location.”

“ _Fuck_ we _, Nick.  You bring yourself.  I don’t need Richard here, and I damn sure don’t need to be seen in_ this _neighborhood with the most well-known cop in town.  You know I love Judy to pieces and back, but she’s not good for me where I’m at._ ”

“…goddamn it, Finn.  Whatever.  I’ll catch a cab and I’ll be there as soon as I can be.  Hold tight.”  He ended the call and went back to the other two.

“Problem?”  Judy put a paw on his arm.

“Finnick needs some help, he’s in a bad place and needs backup.”  He knocked back his latest scotch and dropped some bills on the bar to cover his portion of the tab.  Then he kissed Judy on the cheek.  “Text me when you get home, okay?  I’ll see you in the morning.”  He fist-bumped Richard, gave him a hard look, and was gone.

Nick was stressed about the undercover assignment.  He knew the place, knew the players, and knew the business well enough to fit in, but he hadn’t been in the Zootopian underworld since he joined the police force, and so it made him nervous.  And nerves made him stress.  In addition to that, Nick had begun to grow complacent in his relationship with Judy, no longer actively looking to please and just coasting.  It was a mistake he had promised himself he wouldn’t make, but he had.  If any of that hadn’t been true, Nick might have noticed the stress in Judy’s eyes, the pink blush in her ears, the odd tilt to her ears and the twitch in her nose that all said she was aroused and stressed and disappointed.  He might have noticed and things might have turned out a bit differently.  But Nick _was_ stressed, he _was_ complacent, and he _did_ miss the signs. 

He walked out of the bar, leaving his rabbit girlfriend with a tod known for his attractiveness and ability to seduce, and gave it not a second thought.

 

* * *

 

Richard knew what the hard look was for when Nick gave it to him.  He knew Nick was telling him not to test Judy.  Staking a claim and expecting Richard to steer clear.

Rich never did care for boundaries.

The moment he laid eyes on the gorgeous, horny, sweet bunny Nick had brought him, he’d intended to bed her.  It’s why he started having his drinks with ice, to dilute the beer, drinking only part of the glass before ordering a new one, and exaggerating his slurring and clumsiness.  He wanted to seem much more intoxicated than he was, and it was working.  Then Nick left, the dumbass, and Richard ordered Judy yet another drink.  She was already past tipsy, and that prevented her from being able to mask her feelings effectively.

Richard could see into her, and he knew the buttons to push.  The alcohol would make her more pliable, and with the right words, he could make this work.

“Bit of a dickhead, isn’t he?” said Richard with a bit of a lean in the direction Nick had gone.

“Nooo, no, Nick is great,” retorted Judy, grabbing her fresh drink.  “I love him, he’s awesome.”

“Sure, he’s a nice guy when he wants to be.”  He turned to his own watered down drink and sipped it, leaving the implication hanging.  She peered at him, and took the bait.

“What do you mean ‘when he wants to be’?  He’s good.  Don’t talk ‘bout Nick like that.”

“Sure,” Rich said, pulling a face meant to feign sympathy.  “But he ditched you.  On _date night_.”  Richard, after all, knew that they’d skipped a weekly dinner, because Nick had told him as much when he told him Judy would be coming along.

Judy, her faculties already impaired, frowned suddenly.  “You’re right, he _did_ ditch me.  That…that… _fox_.”

“Sounds like another lonely night,” sniffed Richard sadly, looking away from her.  “I know how that goes.  I like to brag, but I go home alone nine nights out of ten.  It’s really rough around this time, too, because fox mating season is coming up.  I bet you understand what it’s like to have to take care of yourself night after night.”  Richard of course lied through his teeth, but that’s what it took sometimes.

“No, Nick, he, he takes care of me,” protested Judy.  Her frustration was clear on her face, but she was trying, the poor dear.

“He’s one fox,” said Richard, raising a single finger to illustrate his point.  “And no single fox can satisfy a bunny, not for long.  How long has it been?  A week?  Two?  And I bet you’d prefer it morning and evening every day.”  Judy frowned at him, and Richard shook his head apologetically.  “Sorry, sorry…overstepped my bounds.  I understand.  I just hate seeing people so stressed over something so…easily fixed.”

“I’m dating Nick,” muttered Judy.  “Foxes are monogamous.  Most of them.”

“Yes, but bunnies are _not_ ,” returned Richard.  “And it’s got to be hell dealing with another culture on your own.  With no support.  No consideration for _your_ feelings.”

Judy finished her drink and pushed it away.  “I have to go home,” she said, “before I can’t walk straight.  I’m going to have a rough day tomorrow as it is.”

Richard nodded at her.  When she reached for his wallet, he placed a paw on hers and shook his head.  “It’s on me.”  He paid for his tab and hers, then stood with her.  “Let me walk you home.  Make sure you get home okay.”

She almost refused.  He could see the debate in her face.  But his golden-amber eyes were fixed on her violet ones, and she returned the soft smile he gave her, and nodded.

“Sure.  Thanks.  But just to make sure I get home.”  Inwardly, he rejoiced.  He knew the hard part was over.

The walk was short, and as they went Judy prattled on about stupid shit, explaining in great detail this about that brother and that about the other sister.  None of it was remotely interesting or important, but Richard pretended to be interested.  The charade had to continue until his victory was certain.

As they reached her apartment building, entering an enclosed space that held only the two of them instead of a hundred other mammals, a distinct change came over her.  Richard’s musk filled the hall and as soon as she picked up on it her own sweet crushed-grass scent of arousal spiked.  Then her door was open and she entered her apartment without closing the door behind her.  Richard entered after her and softly shut the door as she got out her phone and sent a text, presumably to Nick.

“Are you going to be okay?” Richard asked.  He knew the impression he cared about her well-being would help his cause.

Judy hesitated in answering him.  Normally she’d likely blow off the question, but she was intoxicated and desire was further impairing her ability to resist him.

“I don’t know,” she confided. 

That moment of weakness was all Richard needed to convince her to give herself to him.

 

* * *

 

Nick knew there was something wrong the moment he laid eyes on Judy the next morning.  She looked haggard, exhausted, which was to be expected after drinking as much as they did.  Nick himself was feeling the effects.  But then Judy wouldn’t look him in the eye, and mumbled her greeting to him.  They did their job for the day largely in silence, even after Nick’s headache started to fade, and Nick began to suspect that Judy wasn’t just suffering a bad hangover.  Her distance and silent misery continued through to the end of the day, and when they left for the day he followed her home.

The apartment was cleaner than Nick had ever seen it.  That’s not to say Judy was messy, necessarily, but she wasn’t as fastidious as Nick himself was, and so the complete lack of clutter, absent trash, and lingering scent of cleaning product was enough to give Nick pause.

“You didn’t sleep last night,” he guessed.  She shook her head and sat on her couch.  Then, she indicated the armchair next to her couch, where Nick sat.

Judy took a deep breath, and looked into his eyes.  Nick could see the stark effort it took her to maintain the gaze, and he kept his expression neutral.

“Richard came home with me last night.”  It was a soft pronouncement and the only equal to the heartbreak Nick could hear in the words was the anguish he felt as his heart stopped beating.  He closed his eyes and lowered his head, drawing a deep breath to stave off the shouting he knew would otherwise follow. 

He thought he had prepared for this.  He thought he would be able to face it with grace if she betrayed him, because he knew it was coming.  He knew one fox would never be able to cope, and while he was trusting her to talk to him if things got that bad he kept telling himself in the darkness of his room that this would happen.  Trying to use the repeated inflicted wound of the thought to numb himself to the reality that could follow. 

A voice in the very back of his mind, a voice that sounded an awful lot like Richard, whispered to him that it was _his fault_.  _You missed the signs_ , it said.  _You left her with a womanizer_ , it said.  _You abandoned her a day before you were supposed to go away,_ it said.

“I don’t know why I let him walk me home,” continued Judy softly.  “I shouldn’t have.  I knew I was having trouble.  I was drunk.”

“That excuses anything?”  The question was out of Nick’s mouth before he could stop it, and even he could hear the fury seething in it.  “You were sober enough to walk home.  You were sober enough to _remember_.  You were sober enough to be held accountable for your own actions.”  The words kept coming and it was all he could do to not jump up and scream at her, took all the willpower in his body to keep his head bowed and eyes squeezed shut.

All the power he had to keep his paws clenched in his lap instead of around her arms.

He didn’t see how she crumpled in on herself.  He didn’t see the self-hatred in her eyes, didn’t know that she could see the world shattering around her.  He couldn’t know that she was blaming herself, hating herself, every bit as much as he was blaming her, and hating her.

“I’m sorry,” whispered Judy with tears in her voice.  “It will never happen again.”

“Sorry doesn’t cut it,” snapped Nick.  “I thought the press conference was the _lowest you could sink._ ”  He snapped his mouth shut abruptly, cutting off the tirade before it could begin.

Nick dragged in a deep, shuddering, steadying breath, stood, and walked to the door without looking at Judy.

“Nick!”  Judy was crying, but Nick couldn’t care.

“I can’t look at you.  You’ve hurt me, and I need to be left alone.”

He was very careful to not slam the door when he walked out, but no amount of care could drown out the sobbing he left behind.

In the next hour, he must have covered six miles of street.  He blew through the evening crowds like a devil, with no real destination and no care for those he bumped and cut off.  As he went, he stewed in his fury and heartbreak, running the last two days over and over in his head.  He couldn’t decide who he despised more:  Judy, for sleeping with Richard…or himself, for not seeing the signs.

It was easy to decide where Richard lay on the scale, though.  Nick quickly decided that if he ever saw Richard again, Nick would be going to prison for a long, long time.

Eventually, Nick found himself outside the apartment building in which he grew up.  It was as if fate had driven himself here, and he didn’t hesitate to enter, go upstairs, and storm into his mother’s apartment.

She stood and embraced him without question, and that’s all it took to break all his fury into sorrow.  He sobbed in her arms like a kit, and she held him like she always had before.

It was a long time before his crying slowed and he was able to speak.  Mrs. Wilde led him to the couch, sat him down, and got him a cup of tea; then she sat next to him, stroking his back softly.

“What happened?”

It was a simple enough question, but it sent fresh tears to his eyes.  “She cheated,” he answered simply.

“Sunshine,” said Mrs. Wilde softly, using her nickname for him for the first time in fifteen years, “I will go to prison if you want me to do something about it.  You know I will.”

Had she called him anything else, he might have let her.  Perhaps that was why she called him that.

Nick shook his head.  Mrs. Wilde continued to brush her paw over his back.

“What are you going to do?”

Nick shrugged.  “I don’t know,” he said.

“What did you tell me when you came here after she asked you out?”

He took a steadying breath, and thought about it for a moment.  “She’s a rabbit.  She’ll probably stray.”

Mrs. Wilde nodded.  “What else?”

Nick sat in silence. 

“What else, Sunshine?”

“…I said that I could handle it.  I said I trusted her to do what was best for her.  That it would be wrong of me to hold her to my own culture.”

“Mhmm.”  Mrs. Wilde continued to rub along his spine, one paw on his arm comfortingly.  “And what else did you tell me?”

“…I love her.  More than anything.  That she makes me no longer hate myself.”

Mrs. Wilde’s paw stopped its motion to grip his shoulder, arm across his back.  “And do you still?”

His tears began to fall again, though the sobbing didn’t return.  “I hate what she did,” he whispered.  “I feel like I hate her.”

“Hatred and love are sisters, Sunshine.  You can never have Hatred without her sister, Love.”

“I don’t know if I can forgive her,” said Nick, putting his face in his paws.

“Of course you can, Sunshine,” said Mrs. Wilde softly.  “If you still love her.  Forgiveness is a choice, my son.  It always is, and always will be.  A choice.”

“How can I take her back after this?”

Mrs. Wilde sighed.  “Why did she do it, Sunshine?”

“I don’t know.”  His words were bitter, mocking.

“Yes you do,” replied Mrs. Wilde sternly.  “Tell me why.”

He was silent for a long while, thinking through the issue.  She was right, he did know.  So he told her the same things he’d told himself over and over again:  “She’s a rabbit.  She’s got needs year round that I can only match in the winter.  She’s been stressed, and worried about me, and….”

“And?”

He’d suspected it, somewhere in the unconscious part of his mind.  Only now did he see it clearly, only now was it obvious to his wakeful mind.  “…she was too proud.  Probably didn’t want to admit she needed help.  Didn’t want to admit she couldn’t do it.  Wanted to prove that she was…was…strong enough, that she was good enough.”  A curious thing happened as he spoke the words:  Nick _understood_.  It was suddenly clear to him how this had happened.  Judy had done something terrible, yes.  Nick had neglected the situation, yes.  But he could see _why_ it happened, he understood what pushed it to that extreme, and with that understanding came compassion.  Compassion begat love, and love….

Mrs. Wilde stroked his back once.  “She has changed everything about you.  She made you a better mammal.  She helped you realize your dreams.  Yes, Sunshine, she made mistakes.  We all do.  But I’m willing to bet she owned up to it.  Didn’t she?”

He nodded reluctantly.  “As soon as we were home from work, she told me what happened.  Told me she was sorry.  Admitted she’d been having trouble.  She didn’t even sleep last night, spent the whole night scrubbing her apartment like it offended her.”  Probably, he realized, out of shame.  A coping mechanism, a way to take charge of what she’d done.

“She didn’t lie to you,” said Mrs. Wilde.  “She apologized for what she’d done.  And she loves you.”

“What do you want me to do, mom?” asked Nick, with a touch of aggression.  “Go crawling back to her like some beta?  She _betrayed me_.”

“I want you,” said Mrs. Wilde carefully, “to make an informed choice on how to proceed.  I want you to understand every aspect before you act.  You understood how _you_ felt when you came in here, and now you need to understand how _she_ felt.  I will support your decision no matter what it is.  And if you want me to go teach that harlot a lesson for you, by Karma’s well-chewed tail I will do it.”  A certain hardness entered her voice in the last statement, and Nick was reminded why people didn’t pick fights with Nicole Grace Wilde.

She took a breath, then continued in a more neutral tone.  “You wouldn’t be _crawling back_ to her, Sunshine.  You would be taking the high ground.  Letting compassion and love win out over self-defense and cynicism.  You can choose to condemn her, or you can choose to forgive her, and I will support you either way.  Think about it, okay?  Don’t rush into it.  Make your choice, Sunshine.  And once you make it…stick with it.”

Nick took a deep breath, and sighed heavily.  Then, he turned and hugged Mrs. Wilde.  “Thank you, mom,” he said into her shoulder.  “I love you.”

She squeezed him back.  “I’m here for you, my Sunshine.  Don’t you ever forget it.  I love you too.”

He stayed long enough to drink the tea she’d given him, and then he wandered back out into the streets.  It had been a long day already, was turning into a long night, and yet he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep if he tried.  So, despite having to leave for the undercover assignment in the morning, he walked the streets.  This time he was more courteous of other pedestrians, though he was no more cognizant of his path than he was before.  He simply wandered aimlessly, considering his options.

The thing was, now that he thought about it, really _thought_ about it, he could understand Judy’s position.  If she’d been struggling in silence since last winter like he suspected she had been, well…even the strongest will had a breaking point.  And with as proud and self-sufficient as she was, Judy would never admit defeat to anyone unless she absolutely had to.  It was her fault that she didn’t talk to him, her fault that she let Richard talk her into walking her home, her fault that she’d drank as much as she had.

But it was also Nick’s fault.  He’d neglected their sex life, ignored the signs that she needed more than he was giving her.  He deluded himself into trusting she’d speak up so much that he actively ignored signs that something was wrong.  It was his fault for going into a relationship with a rabbit and expecting anything short of needing to handle an unnaturally high libido. 

It was his fault for leaving her with a fox he _knew_ was able to literally seduce nuns.

They both contributed to this perfect storm, and the moment he accepted that, he knew what he’d do.  The key was Judy’s reaction:  she was truly heartbroken that she’d failed him.  Nick was certain with every fiber of his being that Judy was in as much pain over the situation as he was.  He understood that, and that was the key.

His mother had told him that forgiveness was a choice.

So he chose.

When he unlocked Judy’s apartment with the key she’d given him and crept in, he saw her curled up on her couch, asleep.  It was clear she’d cried herself to sleep.  Nick moved quietly and carefully so as to not wake her, lifting her from the couch and carrying her to the bedroom where he laid her on the bed and covered her up.  Looking at her still hurt, and he knew he’d feel the pain of it for some time.

_“…I love her,”_ he’d said to his mother.

_“And do you still?”_ she’d asked in return.

Nick looked at the card in his paw, with the single violet inside.  He hesitated only for a second before he placed the card upright on her nightstand.  The words inside were hand-written, and he’d gone over and over in his mind what he wanted it to say before finally settling on those simple seven words.  Before Nick left to go meet Bogo, he brushed his lips across Judy’s cheek softly, and whispered the four most important words he’d ever uttered.

“I still love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's your look into Nick's motivations. Hopefully this will show you that I did give Nick's characterization serious thought when I wrote chapter 1.
> 
> I should thank one of my readers for some input regarding this chapter; it's not precisely how we talked about a few weeks ago, but your input helped shape this chapter. Thanks. You know who you are.
> 
> There's one more chapter to come, and it's going to be a doozy.


	3. Reckoning

The end of the workday came—as it was wont to do—more quickly than expected.  Bogo had been working in the police force for decades and was still unaccustomed to the irritating habit of the workday shorting him on time.  He’d live in his office if he could, but alas that was not possible.  He was working quietly in his office, reviewing reports for various cases and engagements given him that day, when a knock came at his door.  Before he could respond, the door opened and the pudgy face of Benjamin Clawhauser peeked in.

“Chief, it’s almost seven,” said Clawhauser.  “Time to go.”  Bogo hardly looked up and snorted an acknowledgement; then, he closed the file before him, tapped it into a stack with the others, and stood to leave.

Clawhauser officially went off duty at six in the evening, as all day-shift officers did.  He’d only left when he got off duty for a week when he first started.  Once he learned that Bogo tended to sit in his office and work until eight or nine in the evening most days—or later, sometimes—he started staying late to make sure Bogo left in a timely fashion.  Bogo had been angry about it at first, but now, years later, it had become a comfortable routine and the irritatingly positive cheetah had become a very dear friend.

“Any change in our favorite pair?” asked Bogo as he walked out with Clawhauser.  The cat shook his head.

“No, the poor dears left as upset as ever.”

Bogo nodded.  “I was afraid of that.  Well…not much we can do about it.”

Bogo went home to his empty apartment, changed into civilian clothes (a pastel pink muscle shirt and dark blue jeans), and made a nice salad, which he sat on his couch to munch on leisurely.  As he ate, he couldn’t help but think about Officer Wilde and Officer Hopps.  He’d known the day they started dating, of course, because nothing happened in his precinct he wasn’t aware of.  Bogo had been keenly aware and had been quite pleased.  He’d never call Wilde a friend (to his face, anyway), but he quite liked Hopps, and he knew without effort that the pair were exceptionally good together, both romantically and professionally, and had watched their relationship  blossom with great interest. 

Strictly speaking the ZPD had protocols that discouraged officers dating, but they were vague and frankly worded in such a way as to be seen as a _suggestion_ rather than a rule if you squinted your eyes and tilted your head when you looked at them, so Bogo didn’t split them up or put them in different departments; he simply watched their conduct on-duty, prepared to give them a warning should their relationship ever disrupt their performance.

It had not.

That’s not to say that they never slipped up at work; in fact, Bogo knew quite well what they did down in Evidence their second week dating while they were supposed to be at lunch.  Wilde had certainly eaten, but it wasn’t food.  But the fact was nobody but Bogo had found out, and they were in fact at lunch at the time and thus technically not on duty; Bogo’s only action in retribution was to tell them two days later to clean Evidence.  He’d framed it as a punishment for Wilde getting on his nerves (again) and life went on.

They’d continued to work well together, trade banter together, and go home together.  Bogo had seen them occasionally after-hours shopping or eating together, and all had seemed fine.  But then everything changed when Wilde reported to go undercover.  The fox was on edge, angry, upset.  And when Hopps came in, she was….

The following couple months showed a sharp decline in the quality of Hopps’s work.  It was a testament to her quality as an officer that at her worst she was not much worse than an average police officer in Precinct One, but the fact was she was at her lowest point since the Night Howler Crisis.  He guessed it was related to Wilde’s anger, and so when Wilde returned and their behavior continued Bogo ordered them to take care of it.

Clearly they had not.

Bogo set aside his plate, now mostly empty, and sighed.  He didn’t know what the problem was, but he needed his two best officers back.  So he got up, left his apartment, and drove to Wilde’s apartment building and went to the fox’s apartment, knocking on the door.  The door opened after a few moments, and the fox, wearing shorts and an open floral-print shirt, looked up at Bogo in some surprise.

“Chief,” said Wilde, buttoning his shirt to preserve his modesty, “nice shirt.  Pink is definitely your color.  What can I do for you?”

Bogo saw past him into his living room:  Fox-sized furniture, all tones of green and brown, all immaculately clean.  Then he looked back down at the fox.

“I’d like to talk to you for a moment; may I come inside?”

Wilde answered by stepping aside and letting Bogo enter.  He shut the door behind them and padded across the room to drape himself on his couch.

“Find a seat, Chief.”

Bogo stepped to the desk in the living room, next to the entertainment center, and picked up a sketchpad, opening it to a random page.  The exposed page showed a very well-done and very detailed portrait of Officer Hopps at her desk chewing on a wooden dowel.

“I didn’t know you drew,” said Bogo.

Wilde shrugged, looking a little uncomfortable.  “It’s a hobby.  I’m not really that good.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Wilde,” retorted Bogo softly.  He laid the sketchbook down and sat on the floor against the desk.  “Wilde…Nick.  I don’t know what’s happening between you and Hopps, and you don’t need to explain it.  But it’s lost me my best officers.  You’re both distracted, functioning at lower than full capacity.  Hopps is dangerously depressed, you’re dangerously, distractingly introspective.” 

He took a breath, and then for the first time since knowing him showed Nick the softness under his armor of gruffness.  “I’m afraid for her, Nick.  You two are my best officers, and as much of a pain in my arse as you can be sometimes…I want the best for you both.  I can tell something serious happened between you, and I’m hoping you can fix it.  We need you, Wilde.  You inspire people.  Every officer in my precinct is better for having worked with you.  And you’re the most effective team I’ve ever seen.”

Wilde was silent for a long moment.  “I don’t know that it can be fixed,” he said quietly.  “She won’t let it.  I tried talking to her this afternoon, and she shut me down.  She made a mistake and she’s determined to pay for it.”

Bogo chose his words very carefully, thinking them through as he stood back up.  He picked up the sketchbook again and gazed at the portrait, at the care and devotion that was expressed so clearly in every pencil stroke on the page. 

He crossed the room and carefully placed the book, portrait up, on Nick’s lap.  “I’ve never known you to give up so easily, Nicholas.  Speak to me in the morning, I’ll reassign you.”  He walked out without a backward glance.

 

* * *

 

Nick stared at the sketch he’d done in the wake of Bogo’s exit.  He remembered the day he did it:  they were held back at work thanks to a difficult case, hadn’t left the precinct until nearly midnight.  He’d brought the sketchbook that day to work on something during lunch, but when he looked over and saw Judy gazing so focused at the case file in front of her, chewing absently on the willow chew stick, his attention was captured.  He’d drawn her out then and there, and the picture had become one of his favorites. 

His fingers brushed softly against the page, and Bogo’s words swam in his mind, repeating over and over.  And Bogo was right:  Nick wasn’t usually a quitter.  He didn’t give up easily; this trait helped him get through the Academy. 

He’d never shown Judy this picture.  She knew he liked to draw, and had seen him draw flowers and trees and even a very nice landscape of Emerald View Park once.  But she’d never asked him to draw her, and it seemed to have never occurred to her to think he might have.  This sketch was not the last he’d done of Judy by any means, but it was the first.  They’d been dating for three weeks.

“Karma help me,” muttered Nick.  He got up, fetched the tie off the hook next to the door, and walked out, bound for Judy’s place.

 

* * *

 

Judy was unaccustomed to having people knock on her door; most of the time, it was her landlord calling for one reason or another, and so she didn’t hesitate to open the door when she heard the knock. 

Nick stood there, holding his sketchbook and wearing the garish outfit she’d met him in.

“We need to talk,” said Nick flatly. 

“Nick, we already talked.”  Judy felt tired, and seeing Nick standing here was like a knife to her chest.

“Not really,” retorted Nick, pushing past her into her apartment.  “You talked and ignored everything I said.  Well, we need to resolve this.  I can’t just let this die without trying, and you shouldn’t either.  I thought you were the Trier, Judy.  I thought you were the one who took what you wanted even if it was difficult to reach.”

“Get out of my apartment, Nick.”  Her voice was low; she didn’t really expect him to listen, and so was not surprised when he just reached over and pushed her door shut. 

He stood with his arms crossed, notebook still held in one paw, and glared at her.  “I’m not leaving here until we reach an understanding.”

“What’s to understand, Nick?”  Judy turned her back on him and walked into her living room proper, sitting on the couch.

“You could start with why you’re giving up on me.”  Nick pursued her into the living room and remained standing out of arm’s reach.

“I’m not giving up on you, Nick,” said Judy, hotly.  The idea alone was offensive.  It had nothing to do with him.

“Don’t give me that crap.”

He would have continued but Judy cut him off.  “I screwed up, Nick.  Badly.  I told you that.  What I did to you deserves nothing less than any misfortune that comes my way.  This is what I deserve, Nick.”

“What about what I deserve?  What about what I _want_?  I want my girlfriend back, and I think I deserve that.”

Judy shook her head.  “I don’t think you do want me back that badly.”  It was obvious that she threw him, because he stared at her with his mouth open as if she’d slapped him.  “You weren’t even that angry at me.  You didn’t _care_ , Nick.  How could you have?  You forgave me after only a few hours.  I hurt you, and you just…ignored it.  How can you have cared about me and gotten over it that quickly?”

“I chose to, Judy.  Because we were good together.  And because we both made mistakes.  I understood, so I didn’t hold it against you.”

“No, Nick.”  She looked down at the floor.  “I don’t think so.  I can’t just ignore what I’ve done.  Especially since you’re not punishing me for it yourself.”

“Why should I punish you?”  Nick threw his paws up.

Something in Judy switched, and she glared up at him.  “What is _wrong_ with you, Nick?”  She stood up sharply and looked up at him in defiance.  “You stand there and shout forgiveness, and for what?  Why aren’t you offended?  Why aren’t you pissed at me?  Why aren’t you angry like a _normal_ person?  Why can’t you just _yell and scream and throw things_? What gives you the _right_ to be so _fucking understanding_?!”  Her shrill scream and the first use of a real swear word since she’d known him threw Nick completely, and she could see a change in his face.  His confusion and concern faded as his eyes hardened.

“You want me to be angry?” he asked, his voice low and deadly.  “I was angry.  I _am_ angry.  But I pushed it aside because I wanted to believe you were worth putting it away.  I forgave you because I _love you, goddamn it._   But _fine_.  You want me to yell?  _I’ll yell_.”

He stepped forward, just one step, and suddenly the fox was very much in her personal space, towering over her, and when he spoke again his voice rose in volume from that low and deadly tone and by the time he finished he was shouting down at her in full fury, gesticulating wildly as he went.

“I trusted you, Judy.  I trusted you with my _life_.  And for a year I called myself yours.  And how did you repay me?  Yeah, I made a mistake.  I knew what kind of mammal Richard was.  But I shouldn’t have had to be concerned.  I shouldn’t have had to remember he doesn’t respect anyone but himself, because you damn well should have _kept it in your fucking pants, Judith._

“How _dare_ you?  Who do you think you are?  You _inspired me, Judy_.”  He shoved the sketch pad into her paws, and she looked down at it, seeing a picture of…herself.  It was perhaps the best sketch she’d ever seen of Nick’s, and it positively _glowed_ with his love for her.  She was stunned and she looked back up at him, open-mouthed.

He snatched the book from her again and literally hurled it across the room.  “And _it means **nothing!**_ ”  Nick whirled back around from his throw and the fury in his emerald eyes burned into her, making her shrink into herself with self-loathing and perhaps a touch of fear.  “ _After I came **so far** you ripped me back down! You betrayed me!  You did the worst thing you could possibly have done to me!_ And then you had the _gall_ to tell me to my _face_.”  He grabbed her by her shirt and bodily shoved her back into the couch, where she fell in a heap of quivering, trembling emotion.  Fear definitely spiked within her as Nick, so much more feral than she’d ever seen him before, followed and crouched above her.

His voice fell.  Almost whispering, Nick was now cold as ice, the rage still clear in his eyes, and the tone alone brought tears to Judy’s wide eyes.  “You don’t _deserve_ me, Judith Hopps.  You don’t deserve my love.  You don’t deserve my forgiveness, or my kindness, or my _presence_.  You don’t deserve _anything_ from me except pure savage _contempt._ ”

She knew the truth of his words, had been saying it to herself for so long, but hearing it from his mouth directly broke her completely.  Everything in Judy shattered, collapsed, leaving her too devastated to even sob into the paws she covered her face with.  She drew herself into a ball of misery and wished to die.

“But I’m offering it anyway.”  Nick’s voice was not warm, not affectionate, and not passionate, but it was soft.  “Because despite everything, I _love you_ , Judy.”  His paws, large and warm and heartbreakingly gentle, pulled Judy up into his lap as she silently shook. 

He put his arms around her gently, and his voice was tired.  “I know you think you can never make up for it.  And maybe you’re right.  But I _understand_ , Judy.  I understand why it happened.  We made mistakes.  Fixable errors, and the most important of those is we didn’t _talk_.  I had no idea you were going through difficulties, and you were too proud to tell me.”

He ran a paw gently down her back.  “If you’re willing to work with me, Judy…I’m willing to work with you.  We can try again, and this time we’ll do it _right_.”

A sob choked out of Judy, and it was enough to break the floodgates.  Her tears came loud and fast and messily, and she sobbed into Nick’s chest, clutching at him like a child, for a long time.  And during this, though he would never mention it and never admit to it, Nick joined in her tears.  She cried for his heartbreak and for her mistake and for his kindness and fury; Nick cried, finally, for himself, for the first time in twenty years.

When it was over, they lay clutching each other in silence for awhile.

Eventually, Judy broke the silence, speaking softly.  “I’m sorry, Nick.”

“I know,” replied Nick, just as softly.

“…do you really think we can make this work?”  She felt uncertain, but for the first time in more than two months, she felt hopeful.  Nick’s arms tightened around her, and he kissed the base of her ears.

“I do.  It’ll take work.  Effort to bridge the gap.  A conscious choice to trust again, and deliberate action to make sure we don’t let this happen again.”

She burrowed into his chest a bit; his shirt was wet, but she didn’t care.  “I can do that.  I love you, Nick.”

“I love you too.”  He nipped one ear.  “No more trying to hold up the world alone.  Let me in, okay?  Let me help you handle this.  You’re not alone.”

“…I’m not alone,” repeated Judy very softly.  It was almost an alien idea, but after a moment she very deliberately _chose_ to believe it.  “I’m not alone.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to thank Selaxes for doing a spot of beta reading for me. I don't usually utilize beta readers, but in this case, I felt it was important. Furthermore, Selaxes helped me pin down how I wanted this aftermath chapter to go down, so thanks for that as well.


End file.
